


One of These Things is Not Like the Others

by talkativelock



Series: If I Were You I'd Fall In Love With Me [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Unbeta'd, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkativelock/pseuds/talkativelock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean isn't like the other angels, Dean is almost human. It's tough to figure out exactly how human when Castiel Winchester has Righteous Man problems to deal with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of These Things is Not Like the Others

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through season 4. It follows the plot pretty closely.
> 
> It may suck, but I didn't want my afternoon to be a waste so I'm posting it anyway. I hope you enjoy!

Dean had been watching Castiel Winchester since he was born. Or at least he was supposed to.

There were also concerts to attend and music to just simply enjoy. It filled his essence. He could feel the music, inside and out. It was the best thing the humans had ever created, and that was saying a lot. So he may not have been around to watch Cas do, well, anything.

But then the boy went to hell.

Oops.

And then there was the matter of rescuing him, which Dean was put in charge of.

Son of a bitch.

…

“Cas.” Sam was breathless, his voice somewhere between a sob and a pant, and he grabbed his older brother and pulled him into his crushing embrace. Castiel tried to fight down the claustrophobia.

“It's alright, Sammy.” He found himself saying, using the nickname he hadn't used since Sam went to his first day of school. It seemed appropriate. He gripped Sam almost as tight as the monster of a man was gripping Castiel.

Sam pulled away and looked his brother up and down, a familiar lopsided grin coming to his lips even if his hazel eyes still held tears.

“You look good.”

Castiel looked down at himself, remembering how the scar-less skin beneath his clothes looked in the mirror at the abandoned gas station, marred only by the hand-print on his shoulder. That thought lead to thoughts of the strange noise that had made his ears bleed. He shook the memory off.

 “I am much improved.” He admitted. Sam huffed a laugh.

“You're almost exactly the same.” Sam sounded like he didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

“No.” Castiel said quickly, remembering the taste of blood and the feel of a blade in his hand. He blinked the memory away before looking back to Sam. He met his brothers eyes, searching them for the truth. “How did you do it, Sam? Did you make a deal?”

“I didn't!” His brother insisted and Castiel believed him immediately. “I don't know how you got out. No demon would deal with me.” He hesitated, his face going soft around the edges. “It's a miracle, Cas.”

Castiel let out a breath, thinking through everything supernatural that he knew to try and come up with an answer to how he had crawled his way out of hell. His thought process was interrupted by Bobby.

“If you two idjits are done, it's also midnight and some old people have to sleep. We can figure out how he crawled out of hell in the morning.”

Castiel turned to him, a smile tugging at his lips without his permission. “I'm sorry, Bobby.” Bobby huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Don't apologize, boy, get to bed.”

…

Dean was thoroughly pissed off.

Contact Castiel Winchester, they said. Bring to him the word of heaven, they said.

No one told him Castiel couldn't hear him. Some special Righteous Man the Winchester boy was turning out to be. Now there was the entire matter of the psychic who was adamant that she get her eyes burnt out by his true form no matter how much he warned her. He really needed to get a vessel.

Dean had to admit, hearing the Righteous Man say his name in the deep gravelly voice he had grown into sent shivers through his grace. That voice had power. Dean wondered how it would sound singing Stairway to Heaven.

…

They didn't have Sam's blessing to summon the creature, but Castiel figured that Sam had given up his rights to decide if they did or did not by taking his car. It made Castiel's skin crawl with worry when he didn't know where his brother was, despite the fact that he knew full well Sam could take care of himself. There were some big brother instincts that he would never grow out of, it seemed. Still, Sam was better off grabbing a burger than summoning a creature that could pull someone out of hell and burn a psychic's eyes out without ever showing it's face.

Castiel and Bobby had performed a summoning on the creature called Dean in an abandoned barn painted in every protection symbol they could find in Bobby's books. They had shotguns filled with salt rounds, books filled with banishing spells, exorcisms, and the knife Ruby had given them last year. Castiel liked to think he was prepared, but somehow he felt like he would never be ready.

After fifteen minutes of waiting in a tense silence Castiel had started to think that was his existence now. He existed to wait for whatever a Dean was, constantly on the edge of pulling his hair out.

Then the doors flew open and Castiel could have sworn his heart stopped. A man was framed by the doorway, his face cast in shadow but his stance relaxed with his hands in his pockets and his weight on one foot. He wore jeans and a dark gray military looking jacket over a plaid shirt, both open over a black tee shirt. The outfit reminded Castiel so much of his father he almost forgot to shoot.

The man in the doorway didn't even flinch as Bobby followed Castiel's lead and emptied his own gun into the stranger. When both their guns were spent the man in the doorway, the man who must be Dean, rolled his shoulders.

“You done?” He called. His voice held just the slightest hint of an accent, one of the southern ones, and he sounded annoyed. It was as though Castiel and Bobby had only splashed him with a little holy water instead of emptying two rounds into his body.

Castiel stayed tense and didn't answer. Bobby, thankfully, followed his lead. Dean sighed before walking towards them, revealing bow legs and bringing his face into light. He had short cropped light brown hair and high cheekbones under tan skin. His chin was square but his lips were almost feminine. As Dean approached Castiel slipped Ruby's knife into his palm.

Dean stopped maybe three feet from Castiel, green eyes locked on blue ones. Castiel noticed Bobby sneaking around behind the stranger and he fought a smile. They had the advantage, two against one, and they were going to use it.

“We need to talk.” Dean said. Castiel stabbed him in the heart with Ruby's knife in response. It was quick and clean. Dean frowned down at the hilt of the knife protruding from him. He looked back up and locked eyes with Castiel again. Castiel kept his face impassive.

“Really?” He sounded almost offended. Castiel felt his heart going a mile a minute.

That was when Bobby swung the crowbar at Dean's head. It never landed. Dean turned faster than the eye could see and grabbed Bobby's wrist. “Not so fast.” The creature said, pushing two fingers to Bobby's forehead. The man dropped like a stone, the crowbar clattering to the ground next to him.

The creature turned back to Castiel. He pulled Ruby's knife from his chest with one clean movement and handed it back to Castiel hilt first. Castiel took it slowly.

Dean then proceeded to admire the protection symbols they had painted on the walls and floor. He wandered a few paces away and Castiel took the opportunity to check Bobby's pulse. It was strong.

“He's just sleeping. Don't worry about it.” Dean said mildly. Castiel looked up to see Dean watching him from the wall he had wandered off to.

“Who are you?” He asked, a deadly calm taking over his body. He felt as though he was face to face with death two days after coming back from it, his body and mind already cool as ice.

“Dean.” The creature sounded almost cheery. “The guy who pulled you from hell.”

“What are you?”

Dean turned back to the wall. His fingers ghosted over the cross that was painted there. “I'm an angel.”

“Angels don't exist.” Castiel informed the creature with a frown. He had seen so first hand. There were only ghosts, the dead who thought they were carrying on God's work.

Dean's head snapped back to Castiel. “Hey, I resent that.”

“They don't exist.” Castiel repeated, irritation creeping into his tone. “Try something else.”

Dean stalked towards him. For the first time he seemed angry. Castiel stood and backed up a few steps on instinct as a wave of power burst forth from the man in front of him. With a crackle of energy the lights flashed once before their bulbs blew out, raining glass shards down on them. Dean didn't even flinch but Castiel ducked his head. Then there was darkness and the sound of thunder.

Suddenly, with a crash that put Castiel's bones on edge, lighting flashed directly above the barn, illuminating the room and casting the shadow of two huge wings on the warehouse wall. The wings arched over Dean's head, their shadowy feathers fluffed in aggression as Dean invaded Castiel's personal space. Castiel felt his blood freeze in his veins.

“You could use a little faith.” Dean growled, eyes narrow. Castiel swallowed. Then, like a switch had flipped, Dean backed off and the lightning storm ended. Castiel felt a little dizzy. Dean seemed embarrassed of his outburst. He was back to staring at the walls quickly, as if nothing had happened.

“You burned out Pamela's eyes.” Castiel found himself saying. “That is not an angelic thing to do.”

Dean shot him a sidelong glance. “I warned her not to look at me when I'm naked. My true form is dangerous. Voice too.”

Castiel's brain made connections faster than he could voice them. “The gas station?”

Dean winced. “Yeah, sorry about that. Special people can see and hear me. I thought you might...” He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

“Wait.” Castiel took a deep breath. “Why can I see and hear you now?”

Dean gestured to himself. “This is a vessel.”

“You're possessing someone?”

“He asked me to.” Dean frowned. “What's with the twenty questions, Cas?”

The sound of the name his family called him coming out of a different mouth burned. “Don't call me that.”

Dean huffed. “Touchy.”

Castiel scrubbed a hand down his face. He felt more than overwhelmed. “Why would an angel rescue me from hell?”

Then Dean grinned, the expression lighting up his entire face. “Because it isn't over yet.”

…

“An angel?”

“That's what he said, Sam.”

“Seriously, an angel?”

“I know.”

“But an angel.”

“Would you be quiet, Sam?”

…

Castiel stood in Bobby's kitchen the night after dealing with the witnesses, Sam asleep on the couch in the next room and Bobby passed out in his bed, and glared at Dean. Dean was looking through the cupboards like he was welcome to anything he may find.

“Sam nearly died.”

Dean shrugged. “But he didn't.” He opened the fridge and riffled around in it. Castiel had an insane moment where he wondered what angels ate.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “How does an angel not care? Angels are guardians.”

“Whoa, there.” Dean turned to Castiel, finally pulling his face out of the fridge. “Angel's aren't guardians of anyone.” He poked at Castiel's chest. “Read the bible. We're warriors.”

“Then why didn't you fight?” Castiel demanded.

Dean turned back to the fridge with a shrug. “Was busy.”

“Busy.” Castiel echoed flatly.

Dean pulled a beer out of the fridge and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Busy.” He repeated.

Castiel stared. Dean sighed, his face falling into a more serious expression.

“There's big shit going down, okay Cas?” He took a drink from the beer. Castiel hadn't seen him open it. “Lucifer is rising and all the big guys have their panties in a twist. You're going to have to deal with some shit on your own. I can't perch on your shoulder.”

Castiel pushed his lips together.

“Lucifer?”

…

A week had gone by and Castiel hadn't seen Dean again after his vague explanation on Lucifer and the 66 seals. It was Sam and motels, like old times, and Castiel tried not to let his brother see how difficult it was for him to sleep.

He woke from a nightmare about hell to Dean lounging on the other side of the bed, thankfully over the covers, drinking a beer again.

“This stuff is awesome. Good dream?” He said by way of greeting.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“Only a little.” He grinned. “Up you get, there's shit to do.”

Before Castiel could form a response Dean pushed his fingers to his forehead and sent him back in time to stop his mother from making the deal that caused their family so much pain. When he failed Dean didn't seem surprised, though he did seem sad.

“Some stuff can't be changed, Cas.”

Castiel looked around the motel room to reassure himself that Sam was still alive. He didn't see him.

“Where's Sam?” He demanded.

“425 Waterman.” He hesitated as Castiel grabbed his trench coat and keys. “Be careful with him, Cas. It's a dangerous road.”

Castiel turned to tell the angel exactly what he thought of his concern only to hear the rustling of wings and find that Dean had gone.

…

Dean thought this whole being on earth thing was going terribly.

The Righteous Man didn't seem to hate him too much, so that was a plus, though he was almost never happy. It might have something to do with his time in hell though, so Dean wasn't too worried about it.

What made earth suck so much was the whole battle thing. All the time the angels were fighting. Dean was lucky to get some time away to find a good rock concert and let himself relax. The music wasn't quite as good when his celestial being wasn't blending with the sound waves, but it was still the best thing there was.

As always, Dean stayed away from the other angels whenever he had the chance. No one liked him, not really. He was strange, they all said. The only one who had enjoyed his company was Anna and when she had fallen she'd left him alone with a whole hierarchy of siblings who didn't know Led Zeppelin from Black Sabbath and got monumentally bored when he tried to explain it to them. That or angry. Angry angels were never fun.

Dean had gotten away, just for a minute, and he was soaking up the sounds of AC/DC, his personal favorite, when Uriel found him.

“Music, brother?”

Dean shrugged.

“You've been irresponsible. Again.”

Dean shot him a grin. “You know me, always pissing off the big guys.”

“This is your last chance, Dean. Zachariah has told me to assist you with the Righteous Man.”

Dean was surprised. If there was anything he was doing well with it was Cas. Skipping out between battles and going for a quick fly was one thing, failing with the Righteous Man was another. He had carried every message to Cas that he'd been asked to. He'd even tried to help Cas out whenever he could. Isn't that what they were supposed to do? Help the Righteous Man?

“Why?”

“You've grown too close to him. And in such a short time. It appears your...” Uriel searched for words and Dean went tense, “unusual nature may have swayed your sympathies.”

Dean's hackles raised. “That's bullshit.”

Uriel smirked, pleased to get a rise out of him, and Dean forced himself to relax.

“We shall see, brother.”

…

Cas's little brother was in attack mode before he'd even fully opened the door. Dean couldn't help but grin. The boy the with demon blood had stones.

“Sam, stop.” Cas's deep voice rang out. “It's just Dean.”

Dean couldn't decide if he was annoyed that he wasn't a threat in Cas's eyes anymore or if he was pleased that Cas seemed to like him. There was also the whole issue of the tingle in his grace when Cas said his name.

“The angel?” Sam asked, his voice betraying his awe.

“In the flesh.” Dean said, casting his vessel's arms out to show off it's toned vessel. He heard Uriel snort quietly from where he watched out the window.

“But I don't know him.” Cas said, his voice flat. He gave Dean a pointed look, almost like he was demanding to be introduced. Dean just shrugged at that.

“It's nice to meet you.” Sam was all earnest and young in the face, once you looked past the demonic nature of it, and he didn't seem to think of Uriel as a threat because he was with Dean. It was cute. “An honor, really.”

Sam held out a hand for Dean to shake. Dean bypassed it, clasping the boy on the shoulder. With that one touch he could feel that the boy had stopped drinking blood, at least for now. “Likewise, Sammy. Good to see your not as full of demon blood as before.”

Sam blanched. Cas glared. “Why are you here, Dean?”

Cas didn't seem to be one for small talk, despite Dean's efforts to put off the serious tone. He could do that.

“Have you killed the witch yet?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“It's one of the seals.”

“We know who she is. We have yet to locate her.” Cas was still tense, his unblinking blue eyes sliding to Uriel every few seconds.

“Maybe you could help?” Sam asked eagerly. He had gotten over Dean's earlier comment faster than Dean thought he would. “You could tell us where she is and we can get her.”

Dean was shaking his head before Sam finished his sentence. “It doesn't work like that.”

Cas frowned. “Then how does it work, Dean?”

“Enough.” Uriel had finally lost his patience. Dean winced as Uriel turned and gave the Winchester brothers a potent glare.

“Who are you and why should I listen?” Cas asked, his voice containing steel to rival Uriel's. Dean stepped in before it could get ugly.

“This is Uriel. He's good at blowing things up.”

Sam and Cas exchanged a look.

“Excuse me?” They both said in unison. Dean was almost impressed.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this but you've got to get the hell out of dodge.”

“No.” Cas was pissed. And rightly so. There was ice in his eyes and a set to his jaw that made Dean's grace hum. He was the Righteous Man, there was no mistake.

…

“They aren't what I expected.”

“Sam...”

“They don't care at all. This is what I've been praying to?”

“They are righteous, but that doesn't make them always right. Dean tries Sam, I think he really does. I'm unsure about Uriel.”

 Sam sighed, leaning back in the seat of the Impala. “I just thought they'd be different.” He sounds bitter and Castiel's heart squeezes for his brother.

“As did I.”

…

“You are not the same as other angels. You're not a hammer.” They weren't questions. Dean didn't respond. He didn't feel like he needed to.

There was a moment of silence before Cas spoke again. He didn't look at Dean, not that Dean was looking at him either but Dean sort of expected Cas to look at him. “If I had to go back and do it all again I would still try to save the town. One seal may be gone, but a thousand innocent lives are still here. I wouldn't trade that.”

“I prayed you'd save the town.” Dean blurted. He felt rather than saw the Righteous Man turn to look at him. “Our orders were to follow your lead and I prayed you wouldn't let the people die.”

“Dean...” Cas sounded almost sad. Dean looked at him.

“There's so much shit on your shoulders right now, Cas, and there's more coming. I don't envy you at all.”

Cas swallowed, a smooth movement of his throat muscles. Dean watched, transfixed by it. Cas looked away, back at the playground, and Dean felt his grace tie itself in confused knots with the desire for Cas to look at him. He escaped instead, opening his wings and disappearing before Cas looked back at him.

…

Dean hid until Uriel informed him, with glee, that they had found Anna. Everything was feeling more and more out of control. They were sent to destroy her.

Of course Cas was there and of course Cas and Anna the human had hit it off and of course they would kiss and of course Cas would be mad at him for apparently wanting Anna dead. What was she, Cas's girlfriend now? Not to mention the fact that she banished him to the other side of the world, which was painful. Needless to say, when Anna got her grace back he didn't know if he was happy or not anymore.

The world was fucked. Everything was so much easier when he'd been just an unusual angel.

So maybe he went and hid and tried to get his head around straight. It wasn't like Cas really needed him.

By the time he came back around Cas was being chased by one of hell's big boys, Alastair. Dean took some glee in zapping him out of the picture.

“Jesus.” Cas was flabbergasted. Dean's grace was glowing, not that Cas could see it.

“No, just me.” Cas's head whipped around so fast Dean was worried for a moment that he had broken his neck.

“Dean.” He breathed, his voice raw and his chest heaving. He looked wild, his blue eyes wide and his dark hair even more mussed then normal. Something about the way he gasped Dean's name made his grace shiver.

…

Dean had come out of nowhere and Castiel didn't know if he was happy or angry. Ever since Anna Dean had been curiously absent and it frustrated Castiel to no end for reasons he'd rather not think about.

Now Dean was looking everywhere but Castiel.

“We couldn't get into the building. The demons got their hands on some angel proofing.” Dean was saying.

“And now people are going to start dying again?” Castiel guessed. Dean had the sense to look guilty.

“To everything there is a season.” His voice was oddly hollow, like he was quoting something.

“But you made an exception for me.”

Dean finally looked at him with green eyes that seemed otherworldly, the only clue that this wasn't another hunter looking back at him.

“You're different.” He said, and something about the angel's voice made it seem like they weren't just talking about life and death.

“Castiel!” Castiel turned to see Tessa, his reaper, calling for him. He turned back to Dean but the angel was gone.

…

Dean was starting to feel guilt wear on his wings. He wasn't surprised when Uriel told he he hadn't passed any tests and that his loyalties were pending. He agreed. He didn't know where he stood anymore. His brothers and sister were dropping like flies all around him and he could only think of Cas.

Unfortunately, his demotion meant that Uriel was in charge. The Winchesters weren't on board with that.

Cas was bitter, more bitter than before, and he made Dean's grace burn with the force of his anger. They had buried Pamela and Cas blamed the angels, at least partly. Uriel was unsympathetic.

“We know this sucks, Cas.” Dean tried, but Uriel silenced him with a look.

“And we don't care. Seven angels have been murdered.”

“By demons?” Cas asked.

“What do you expect us to do about it? Any demon with the power to ice angels is way over our heads.” Sam pointed out.

“We can handle the demons.” Uriel sneered at Sam. Sam glared back. Dean felt like he had missed something while he was sulking, which was completely possible. “We need to find out who it is.”

Cas frowned. “So you need us to find a demon.”

“Not quite.”

“We have Alastair.” Dean cut in, feeling like if he let them they'd dance around the subject all night. “But he won't talk. He's got like a black belt in torture. We can't get anything out of him.”

Cas's face turned to stone as he realized what was being asked of him. Dean had known it was going to be a bad idea. “And so you've come to his student.” Cas looked down, his face a blank mask in a way that reminded Dean too much of his siblings. His grace felt cold from it.

“Cas...” He tried, not sure what he was going to say. He wanted to provide comfort, but he felt like he was trying to reach his wings across the universe.

“Do not ask this of me.” Cas's voice was curiously blank.

Uriel scowled, crossing the room in one powerful flap of his wings. “Who said we were asking?”

Then Uriel grabbed the Righteous Man and took off, Dean following close behind.

…

Castiel refused to torture Alastair. He refused point blank, he refused outright, he refused in body language and with every cell in his body. He didn't know how he could make it more clear. Uriel, however, did not seem to care.

Castiel felt stuck. There was nothing he could do. Yet every time he looked at Dean he saw pain and guilt. Dean, at least, might be reasonable.

“Let me talk to Dean alone.” He demanded.

Uriel sneered. “I shall go seek revelation.”

Castiel just pressed his lips together and waited for the angel to be gone. He turned back to Dean. Dean looked lost, tight lipped and almost in pain. Castiel could feel worry in his bones, though he did his best to ignore it. He didn't know when or how, but he almost felt protective over the angel who was different. Even Anna had changed into someone less feeling when she had gained back her grace, but Dean constantly showed compassion.

“Dean, why is Uriel the one giving orders?”

Dean laughed, but it came out hollow. “You just cut right to the chase, don't you Cas?” Then Dean fell silent, looking down at his shoes as though he had just realized whatever body he was in was wearing shoes.

Castiel waited for Dean to speak. It happened slowly. “There's questions about my loyalties. I've always been too emotional, almost too human. They are starting to think I've gotten too close. Too close to you.”

Castiel nodded, because there was nothing else to do. “Tell them that they do not want me to do this.”

Dean looked up at Castiel then, green eyes meeting blue. “No one wants it, but they say we need it.”

Castiel's expression tightened. “If I go in there you will not like what walks out.” Dean let out a ragged breath and for a strange moment Castiel wondered if he even really needed to breathe.

“If I could I would give anything so you didn't have to do this.”

Castiel felt his heart sink.

…

At some point during the torture everything went to hell. Anna showed up and told him he was made to fall. And, okay yeah, he was starting to have his doubts but he was still an angel, dammit. When this was all over her was going back to the sound waves. There was no falling, Righteous Man or no Righteous Man. Then, when Anna had finally left, Alastair got out of his trap and started wailing on Cas.

Dean was in the chamber in a second. Alastair was taunting Cas, who was all dark red and dark hair. Dean had Cas's demon killing knife, though, the one Cas had stabbed him with when they first met. He stabbed Alastair in the chest with it, but the weapon was too imprecise and Alastair survived it.

Dean swore under his breath as Alastair rushed him. They traded blows and Dean lost his footing. Alastair caught him by the throat and shoved him up against the wall, chanting a verbal angel banishing spell. Dean could feel himself slipping, his grace starting to peel itself from his vessel. He choked on his own being, wishing he could call out to Cas to close his eyes before his grace became blinding.

Suddenly it was over. Sam had arrived, full of demonic power. The change in his true face was staggering. Dean gasped, trying to fight to keep a hold of his vessel as Sam tortured Alastair for the information they needed and then tore the demon apart.

…

Dean had been forced to kill Uriel. He was considering outright disobedience. It was all over. Everything was over. The universe was crashing down around his wings. He was on the path to falling. Or worse, to becoming the next Lucifer. Everything had changed, everything was different. Soon he would have nowhere to go.

So he sat by Cas's bedside and waited for the human to wake up.

“Dean.”

Cas's voice was hoarse. Dean looked up at him. “I killed Uriel.” He admitted, all the small talk he usually kept up falling away. Cas's blue eyes went wide.

“Why?”

Dean looked down again. “He's the one who broke the devil's trap, set Alastair free.”

There was a moment of silence before Cas spoke again. “Was I really the first seal?”

Dean closed his eyes, though it really didn't matter. “Yes.”

“Why didn't you leave me in hell?” Cas sounded broken.

“The Righteous Man who begins it is the only one that can end it.” He mimicked Zachariah.

“What does that mean?”

Dean opened his eyes and looked at Cas as squarely as he could muster. “I don't know.”

Cas's face went tight. “I don't believe you.”

“They don't tell us much, Cas.” Dean licked his lips, wondering how much he could find out if he just didn't care about the consequences. “All I know is that you got the world in your hands.”

“It's too much.” Cas said simply. Dean silently agreed.

…

The next time Castiel sees Dean he is already not pleased. Chuck, a lonely guy in a bathrobe, was using magic to write their lives into books. He was about to explain to him exactly why that was a bad idea when Dean appeared from nowhere, physically putting himself between the Winchesters and Chuck.

“Knock it off.”

“Dean.” Castiel said flatly.

“You can't hurt him, Cas.”

“Why?” He demanded, already at his wits end.

Dean looked embarrassed when he said. “He's a prophet.”

“You're Dean.” Chuck said dumbly.

“That's me.” Dean grinned at Chuck, the expression a mockery of the smile Castiel knew Dean possessed. “And I'm a huge fan too, just so you know.”

Chuck groaned. “I need to sit down.”

…

Castiel was sure he was going crazy. Dean, Sam, Lilith, Chuck, everything. So he turned his head to the stars and prayed.

“I need help. Any help.”

“Praying a good sign.” Dean said from behind him. Castiel didn't know who he expected.

“Does that mean you'll help.”

“I don't know if I can.”

Castiel turned and looked Dean in the eye, trying to force him to understand. “Drag Sam out of here. Keep him away from Lilith.”

Dean shook his head. “I can't. It's fate. I'd be dead before I even started.”

“So I'm just supposed to wait for my brother and Lilith to meet up and do only God knows what?” Castiel asked.

“I don't-”

Castiel interrupted him, already anticipating what he was going to say. “If you can't help me then don't ask me to help you.” He brushed past Dean, intending to stalk out and find someone else to help him.

“Cas! Cas, wait!”

Castiel stopped, looking over his shoulder at the angel. Dean hunched in on himself, his hands jammed in his pockets. He seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, but he held Castiel's gaze with an expression that told Castiel that whatever he was about to say was so important it may only be able to be said once.

“You have to get why I can't. If anything tries to get in a prophet's way, anything at all, an archangel will appear and get rid of it. Those guys are absolute. They're heaven's most terrifying weapon. They have to protect their prophet until the prophet's done doing his thing.” He stared at Castiel hard, his green eyes piercing.

Everything clicked into place. “They destroy anything dangerous.”

“Anything.” Dean confirmed.

Castiel felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean smiled. It was a real smile, like the sun breaking the clouds that had been Dean's face since Uriel first joined him. “Go on, then.”

Castiel nodded, hurrying away. He heard the rustle of wings faintly behind him.

…

The next time he sees Dean he knows he's dreaming. He's fishing, something he doesn't get the chance to do in real life, when a rustle of feathers signals Dean's arrival.

“There isn't much time.” Dean sounded out of breath. “We aren't safe here.”

Castiel frowned at the angel. “We're inside my head.”

Dean grimaced. “And someone else could be listening. Meet me here.” He handed Castiel a small scrap of paper.

“Dean-” Castiel started, unsure of what to say. Dean shook his head.

“Just hurry, Cas.”

Then Castiel woke up.

…

If Castiel's run in with Jimmy, Dean's vessel, was strange then Dean upon his return to it was from another world. He had none of the humanity Dean had always exhibited, none of the almost normal visible thought process Castiel was used to seeing in the angel. Worse still, Dean said things he would have never said before.

“I serve heaven, I don't serve man, and I definitely don't serve you.”

The memory of Dean's voice so cold still made Castiel shiver. It ate away at Castiel until he stood in Bobby's junkyard and prayed for Dean to come down.

It took a long time, but finally Dean stood in front of him. He looked the same, only his expression giving away the difference.

“What do you want, Cas?” Dean sounded tired.

“What happened in Kansas?” Castiel demanded.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and searched Dean's face. It was blank. Too blank. “You were going to tell me something.”

“It wasn't important.”

“I don't believe that.”

Dean looked away then. Castiel felt some sort of sick accomplishment from it, as thought it proved him right.

“Cas, stop. I can't talk about that anymore. Get to the reason you really called me. It's about Sam, right?”

Castiel felt his throat go dry. “Can he really do it? Can he kill Lilith?”

Dean sighed. “Possibly, yes. But it would change him. He would become no more than another demon. But we believe it's you, not your brother. Sand up and accept your role. You are the one who will stop it.”

It sounded so unlike Dean that Castiel shivered, but he let it go and pressed on. “If I do it Sam won't have to?”

Dean looked sad. “Yes, I guess.”

Castiel glared at him for a long moment before turning and walking away a few steps. He took a deep breath, then gave in. “Very well.”

“You give yourself over wholly to the service of God and his angels?” Dean asked, though it sounded like he was reading it from a text book or the bible itself. Castiel looked over his shoulder at the angel to see him staring almost blankly.

“Yes.”

“You have to say it.”

Castiel licked his lips. “I give myself over wholly to serve God, excreta.”

Dean wasn't looking at Castiel anymore. “You swear to follow his will and his word as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father's?”

Castiel swallowed and considered refusing. Then he thought of his brother, detoxing in Bobby's panic room. “Yes, I swear. Now what?”

The angel let out a heavy sigh. “Now you wait. Someone will come get you when it's time.”

…

Sam had gotten out of the panic room. He was free, drinking blood, and going after Lilith. Castiel couldn't stop him. It was, of course, now that Dean used whatever angelic power he had to put him in a fancy room. Then Zachariah showed up and told him all about it. Dean was part of a trick to get him to swear loyalty and he was going to sit in their angelic green room until he was needed. He felt as though he had been played. He asked to see Dean anyway, out of some sort of masochism.

Dean came, looking put out. It caused physical pain in Castiel's chest to see him.

“You wanted to see me?” The angel asked, looking at Cas as though he expected to be chewed out.

“I need to see Sam.”

Dean looked taken aback. “Why?”

Castiel forced himself not to grind his teeth. “None of your business.

“That isn't a good idea, Cas. You guys threw down when you talked last.”

“I know. That's why I must see him. You have to take me to him.”

Dean hesitated. “No.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Am I trapped here, Dean?”

“You can go where ever you want. Except to see Sam.”

“I'd like to take a walk then.”

Dean nodded. “I'll go with you.”

“Alone, Dean.”

“You can't.”

“I will leave myself, then.” Castiel hissed, impatient. He turned to the door only to find it gone. When he turned back to Dean, a question on his lips, he found that the angel had gone.

…

It wasn't long after Zachariah's big reveal that Cas tried to call Sam, which was a stupid move.

“Cell phones don't work in here.” He told Cas, who turned on him.

“What will you do to Sam?”

“Nothing. Sam is gonna do it himself.” Dean hedged.

“What does that mean?” Cas asked. Dean bit his tongue. His grace sang and wept equally in Cas's presence, it was driving him insane. But he couldn't forget his place again. Cas glared.

“If you're not going to tell me anything then why are you here, Dean?”

Dean looked away from Cas's blue eyes, speaking instead to the wall. “I'm sorry about the way things ended up. I really do like you, you know.”

“You're sorry.” Cas echoed. Dean chance a look at him just in time for Cas's fist to hit is face. Cas bent over the injured hand in obvious pain. Dean felt guilty, as though he should have warned him, but Cas kept talking despite the possibly broken hand. “You're going to need a bigger word than 'sorry'.”

“It's your destiny.” Dean said. He meant to sound emotionless, like the orders he got from on high, but it came out sulky.

“It isn't about destiny, it's about the innocents. And you're going to watch them all burn.”

Dean pushed into Cas's personal space. “What's so worth saving, huh Cas? I see nothing but pain. I see your guilt and your anger and your confusion. In paradise that stuff if forgiven. Everything is forgiven. Even Sam.”

Cas pushed back. “I don't want your paradise. I'll take my pain and Sam as is, it's better than losing my freedom. It's simple, Dean. There is no more 'good soldier'. There's right and there is wrong and I know you know the difference.”

Dean turned away, ignoring Cas when he demanded that Dean look at him. For a second he hated Cas, truly hated him for screwing with his head. He was the odd angel out, sure, but he was still an angel. He didn't want to be so affected by what Cas was saying, but he didn't seem to have a choice. Then Cas's hand landed on his shoulder, forcing him to face blue eyes and messy dark hair. Just that contact shoved all thoughts of hate from Dean's mind as his grace craved the feel of Cas's hand again.

“You were going to warn me and they did something to you.” Cas said, hitting the nail right on the head like he always seemed to. “You know this is wrong.”

Dean felt like his head was swimming, his grace was humming under his vessel's skin. “But what should I do?” His voice asked without his permission. It sounded small and far away to his vessel's ears.

“Help me.” Cas's eyes searched his. “Get me to Sam.”

“If I do that we're both dead.”

“If there is anything worth dying for, this is it.”

Dean swallowed, his grace fighting to get it's way out of his body and touch Cas, why he didn't know. He shook his head, panic overwhelming him.

Cas sighed, the fight going out of him. He closed his eyes and Dean felt like he could breathe again. “If you will not help me then we are done. You are dead already.”

“Cas-”

“No more.” Cas's eyes flew open and he glared at Dean with an anger that froze Dean's grace. Then he turned away. Dean was gone before Cas had finished turning around.

…

It only took five minutes for Dean to break. He slammed Cas against the wall in the same breath it took for him to land from flight, covering his mouth with his vessel's hand to stop the Righteous Man from shouting out. He ignored the way his grace turned to fire when his vessel's skin touched Cas's. When the confusion in Cas's eyes faded he pulled a knife from his pocket in one fluid motion, running it across his vessel's forearm.

Then everything happened quickly. He drew the banishing spell, activating it to get rid of Zachariah, then flew Cas to the prophet's house. By the time they had learned Sam's location, and the location of the final seal, the archangel was on his way. There was no way Dean could out fly an archangel.

“Go, Cas.” He shouted over the sound of an archangel's wrath. “I've got this, you stop Sam. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to stop this, but there's still time for you.”

Dean got one last look at Cas's bright blue eyes, his mouth open as though he was going to say something, and then he sent Cas to St. Mary's. Better he didn't know what Cas was about to say anyway.

“I think he loves you, going off what I've seen in my vision's anyway.” Chuck said. Dean smiled, turning to the archangel Raphael.

“If that's true then I could do anything.”

That was when he exploded, both his vessel and his grace. Dean the angel was no more.

 


End file.
